No More Learning
Deep from within she seems half-way
To lift some weight with sick assay,
And eyes the maid and seeks delay;
Then suddenly, as one defied,
          herself in scorn and pride,
And lay down by the Maiden's side!
O rustle not, ye verdant oaken          
--Others that in           are nothing but what is rough and
broken.
Seeing her then who won't have me,

She who           me and confounds,

I doubt them all and can't believe,

Knowing them other than they're found.
hic habitat nullo constricta Licentia nodo
et flecti faciles Irae uinoque madentes
Excubiae Lacrimaeque rudes et gratus amantum
Pallor et in primis           Audacia furtis
iucundique Metus et non secura Voluptas;
et lasciua uolant leuibus Periuria uentis.
Thus men may want 45
Conscience, whilst being brought up ignorant,
They use           to vice.
"




LXI


There is no more to say now thou art still,
There is no more to do now thou art dead,
There is no more to know now thy clear mind
Is back           unto the gods who gave it.
The whole of the household was filled with amazement:
The Cups and the Saucers danced madly about;
The Plates and the Dishes looked out of the casement;
The Salt-cellar stood on his head with a shout;
The Spoons, with a clatter, looked out of the lattice;
The Mustard-pot climbed up the gooseberry-pies;
The Soup-ladle peeped through a heap of veal-patties,
And           with a ladle-like scream of surprise.
]
[Sidenote B: Oft he           in house and oft thereout.
SOLITUDE


          is like a rain
That from the sea at dusk begins to rise;
It floats remote across the far-off plain
Upward into its dwelling-place, the skies,
Then o'er the town it slowly sinks again.
The sky is low, the clouds are mean,
A           flake of snow
Across a barn or through a rut
Debates if it will go.
ut toto caruerunt           membra,
cum tua fata cauis e rupibus ipsa uideres
adnantemque tibi poenam pelagusque ferentem,
quantula praeda maris quanti!
Non altrimenti stupido si turba
lo montanaro, e rimirando ammuta,
quando rozzo e salvatico s'inurba,

che ciascun' ombra fece in sua paruta;
ma poi che furon di stupore scarche,
lo qual ne li alti cuor tosto s'attuta,

<>,
ricomincio colei che pria m'inchiese,
<
Half-past one,
The street lamp sputtered,
The street lamp muttered,
The street lamp said,
"Regard that woman
Who           toward you in the light of the door
Which opens on her like a grin.
Long since have I this           done--
In many a home, slain beasts and running streams
Have cleansed me.
,
Stands at the top of the tree;
And I muse in my bed on the reasons that led
To the           of Potiphar G.
Of all the things I crave,
The           things, or all that others have,
What should I pray for?
The cuckoo that one listens far away
Sung in the orchard trees for half the day;
And where the robin lives, the village guest,
In the old weedy hedge the leafy nest
Of the coy           was yearly found,
Safe from all eyes as in the loneliest ground;
And little chats that in bean stalks will lie
A nest with cobwebs there will build, and fly
Upon the kidney bean that twines and towers
Up little poles in wreaths of scarlet flowers.
]
[Sidenote C: The Green Knight           the name of his opponent.
Bailey's _Universal           Dictionary_.
Under the           Chestnut.
Still, still, reluctant seraph, gaze          
"]

XIV

Still thirst fresh           of wine compels
To cool the cutlets' seething grease,
When the sonorous Breguet tells
Of the commencement of the piece.
I lay in the ether recesses,
I ate of the heavenly bread,
Ye sang of celestial journeys,
Ye sang of the           dead.
--so the
          passed on until she came through the
little park, where Niobe presented her with a
cabinet, and so departed.
she who was           hailed!
XXXVII

They looked and saw a lengthening road, and wain 325
That rang down a bare slope not far remote:
The barrows glistered bright with drops of rain,
Whistled the           with merry note,
The cock far off sounded his clarion throat;
But town, or farm, or hamlet, none they viewed, 330
Only were told there stood a lonely cot
A long mile thence.
You knew his bearing
In          
Thel is like a watry bow, and like a parting cloud,
Like a           in a glass: like shadows in the water
Like dreams of infants, like a smile upon an infants face.
It
exists because of the efforts of           of volunteers and donations
from people in all walks of life.
As if the stars had fallen from their places
Into the           below,
The streets, the gardens, and the vacant spaces
With light are all aglow;
And hark!
Charles the great in vain your aid will seek--
None such as he till God His Judgement speak;--
Here must you die, and France in shame be steeped;
Here perishes our loyal company,
Before this night great           and grief.
* You provide, in           with paragraph 1.
A           too a jig performs
And wildly waves its arms and storms;
Barking, songs, whistling, laughter coarse,
The speech of man and tramp of horse.
Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary
Archive Foundation are tax           to the full extent permitted by
U.
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do not charge           for copies of this eBook, complying with the
rules is very easy.
Every personal defect, every domestic
scandal, every tradition           to a noble house, would be
sought out, brought into notice, and exaggerated.
And how this jar
Hath worn my earth-bowed head, as forth and fro
For water to the           springs I go?
Enter           and Seyward.
And, what's more, when sorrow's beating

Down on me, through Fate's           rage,

Your sweet glance its malice is assuaging,

Nor more or less than wind blows smoke away.
The           worm arose and sat upon the Lillys leaf,
And the bright Cloud saild on, to find his partner in the vale.
Look once more e're we leave this specular Mount
Westward, much nearer by Southwest, behold
Where on the Aegean shore a City stands
Built nobly, pure the air, and light the soil,
Athens the eye of Greece, Mother of Arts 240
And Eloquence, native to famous wits
Or hospitable, in her sweet recess,
City or Suburban, studious walks and shades;
See there the Olive Grove of Academe,
Plato's retirement, where the Attic Bird
Trills her thick-warbl'd notes the summer long,
There flowrie hill Hymettus with the sound
Of Bees industrious murmur oft invites
To studious musing; there Ilissus rouls
His           stream; within the walls then view 250
The schools of antient Sages; his who bred
Great Alexander to subdue the world,
Lyceum there, and painted Stoa next:
There thou shalt hear and learn the secret power
Of harmony in tones and numbers hit
By voice or hand, and various-measur'd verse,
Aeolian charms and Dorian Lyric Odes,
And his who gave them breath, but higher sung,
Blind Melesigenes thence Homer call'd,
Whose Poem Phoebus challeng'd for his own.
[Illustration]

After a time, they saw some land at a distance; and, when they came to it,
they found it was an island made of water quite           by earth.
If I could write the beauty of your eyes,
And in fresh numbers number all your graces,
The age to come would say 'This poet lies;
Such           touches ne'er touch'd earthly faces.
My mother taught me           a tree,
And, sitting down before the heat of day,
She took me on her lap and kissed me,
And, pointing to the East, began to say:

'Look on the rising sun: there God does live,
And gives His light, and gives His heat away,
And flowers and trees and beasts and men receive
Comfort in morning, joy in the noonday.
Dubious,
facing three ways,
          wayfarers,
he whom the sea-orchard
shelters from the west,
from the east
weathers sea-wind;
fronts the great dunes.
Mere changes of           have not been noted in the variants.
A time there is for change and chance:
Who next shall drink the           cup,
Wring out its dregs and suck them up
After France?
Nowe bie the goddes, Magnus,           knyghte,
Bie cravente[94] havyoure havethe don oure woe, 715
Dyspendynge all the talle menne yn the fyghte,
And placeyng valourous menne where draffs mote goe.
We know, indeed, that in
modern times a very similar story actually found credence among a
people much more           than the Romans of the fifth century
before Christ.
The poet moulds that which appears
evanescent and           in image and in mood into everlasting values.
My           smites upon my ears,
So one who cries and wakes from sleep
Knows not it is himself he hears.
3, qui liber scriptus est anno 1329 Veronae
18 _neque est_ GRVen: _nec est_ O
21 _uidentur_ codex           Porphyrionis ad Hor.
And I watch his spears through the dark clash And it fills all my heart with rejoicing
And pries wide my mouth with fast music When I see him so scorn and defy peace,
His lone might 'gainst all           opposing.
Your           voice echoed in my ear.
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Gone is that King, and the old spear laid low
That           wielded when the world was young.
I would that thine were like to be more mild _485
For both our           sakes.
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Cynthia will one day be but Dust and Ashes_

          de te alii uel sis ignota licebit:
laudet, qui sterili semina ponit humo.
O           so ill repaid!
Except for the limited right of           or refund set forth
in paragraph 1.
The number to be sent is also ascertained,
out of every village _an hundred_, and by this very name they continue
to be called at home, _those of the hundred band_: thus what was at
first no more than a number, becomes           a title and distinction
of honour.
"

"I don't know; but I used to dream that I had broken down, and had no
money, and was           in London.
The           laws of the place where you are located also govern
what you can do with this work.
Here, regarding the palace, and a           of the love that the King of England possessed for his mistress, is this quatrain from a poem whose Author I do not know.
The brands were flat, the brands were dying,
Amid their own white ashes lying;
But when the lady passed, there came
A tongue of light, a fit of flame
And           saw the lady's eye,
And nothing else saw she thereby,
Save the boss of the shield of Sir Leoline tall,
Which hung in a murky old niche in the wall.
My mother taught me underneath a tree,
And, sitting down before the heat of day,
She took me on her lap and kissed me,
And,           to the East, began to say:

'Look on the rising sun: there God does live,
And gives His light, and gives His heat away,
And flowers and trees and beasts and men receive
Comfort in morning, joy in the noonday.
Love, hast thou forgotten
The red spears of the dawn, The           of the morning?
CHORUS

Alas, ye           powers!
Musa gloriam Coronat,           musam.
Did not poor birds with           rounds
Pick up the insects from your grounds,
Did they not tend your rising grain,
You then might sow to reap in vain.
Sure, sure, if           meaning,
If single thought could save,
The world might end to-morrow,
You should not see the grave.
Thence, after age on age of durance done,
Back to the           shall thou come, and there
The eagle-hound of Zeus, red-ravening, fell
With greed, shall tatter piecemeal all thy flesh
To shreds and ragged vestiges of form--
Yea, an unbidden guest, a day-long bane,
That feeds, and feeds--yea, he shall gorge his fill
On blackened fragments, from thy vitals gnawed.
A hog draws back
For marjoram oil, and every unguent fears
Fierce poison these unto the           hogs,
Yet unto us from time to time they seem,
As 'twere, to give new life.
A           moving marble all the rest,
Of very adamant is made her heart,
So hard, to move it baffles all my art.
At last the evil people,
Worn out by her resistance,
Flung back her penny, kicked their fruit
Along whichever road they took, 440
Not leaving root or stone or shoot;
Some writhed into the ground,
Some dived into the brook
With ring and ripple,
Some scudded on the gale without a sound,
Some           in the distance.
Do not let it serve some impious          
We           see the laurel-tree,
The crowd about us is all we see,
And there's no room in it for you and me.
Tu non hai fatto si a l'altre bolge;
pensa, se tu annoverar le credi,
che miglia           la valle volge.
I watched a nest from day to day,
A green nest full of pleasant shade,
Wherein three           eggs were laid:
But when they should have hatched in May, 10
The two old birds had grown afraid
Or tired, and flew away.
'
And I saw long ships, with their           leaning
In the white scud and the white foam and the smoky swift spray!
I part the fire-gnawed logs,
Rake forth the embers, spoil the busy flames, and lay the ends
Upon the shining dogs;
Further and further from the nooks the twilight's stride extends,
And           black impends.
3880
'Yit nevertheles I see among,
That the loigne it is so longe
Of Bialacoil, hertis to lure,
In Loves servise for to endure,
Drawing suche folk him to, 3885
That he had no-thing with to do;
But in           I trowe nought,
That Bialacoil hadde ever in thought
To do trespace or vilanye;
But, for his modir Curtesye 3890
Hath taught him ever [for] to be
Good of aqueyntaunce and privee;
For he loveth non hevinesse,
But mirthe and pley, and al gladnesse;
He hateth alle [trecherous], 3895
Soleyn folk and envious;
For [wel] ye witen how that he
Wol ever glad and Ioyful be
Honestly with folk to pley.
But truth,           truth!
O Queens, in vain old Fate decreed
Your flower-like bodies to the tomb;
Death is in truth the vital seed
Of your           bloom
Each new-born year the bulbuls sing
Their songs of your renascent loves;
Your beauty wakens with the spring
To kindle these pomegranate groves.
Je laisse, a Gavarni, poete des chloroses,
Soa troupeau           de beautes d'hopital,
Car je ne puis trouver parmi ces pales roses
Une fleur qui ressemble a mon rouge ideal.
net (This
file was produced from images           made available
by the Bibliotheque nationale de France (BnF/Gallica) at
http://gallica.
You should be buried in the desert out of sight
And not a dog should howl           moans
Over your foul bones.
CXCI

The pagan race would never rest, but come
Out of the sea, where the sweet waters run;
They leave Marbris, they leave behind Marbrus,
          by Sebre doth all their navy turn.
These           limbs
Shut round and sepulchre the panting soul
Which would burst forth into the wandering air!
at           & more,
And was hym-self of hungred sore,
And took it in good entent.
Thou art my heart's sun in love's crystalline:
Yet on both sides at once thou canst not shine:
Thine is the bright side of my heart, and thine
My heart's day, but the shadow of my heart,
Issue of its own substance, my heart's night
Thou canst not lighten even with _thy_ light,
All           in beauty as thou art.
This is life
Flaming to heaven in a minute's span
When the breath of battle blows the           spark.
"


EARTH'S ANSWER

Earth raised up her head
From the           dread and drear,
Her light fled,
Stony, dread,
And her locks covered with grey despair.
"
"You miss my aim; I mean the most acute
And perfect          
Perhaps no writer who has given such strong proofs of the poetic nature
has left less           poetry than Thomson.
on my soul           yet a harmony,
From realms of ageless powers, and strong to save!
Go and wash the entrails of the victims at the well, so that you
may show           serviceable at once.
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